Nightingale
by plainkidsister
Summary: McCoy/Chapel fluff. When he first heard her sing, he didn't believe it was her.


**warnings: **cursing but it's harmless. VERY FLUFFY.

**disclaimer: **characters not mine but plot is!

[if you're interested, the song is "nobody but the baby" from the _o brother! where art thou?_ soundtrack...emmylou harris, gillian welch, and alison krauss. amazing ladies!]

* * *

The first time he heard her sing he didn't believe it was her but maybe one of those temp nurses who was only there to help the staff until they undocked. The sweet sound was bouncing off the reinforced steel walls, lifting high into the framework of sickbay and caressing the patients still hooked in their biobeds, some closing their eyes to enjoy it, others sedated but smiles spreading across their lips.

He probably wouldn't have even recognized the soft lilt of her singing voice if it wasn't for a break in the song - _Nurse Johnson, could you make sure no one touches that? It's already been logged._ - and then a return to the tune about diamonds being a girl's best friend. McCoy allowed himself an unbelieving laugh before locking the tricorder hatch and returning to his small office, making sure his door was ajar to catch the faint humming that followed what he assumed to be a loss of memory at the rest of the words.

"Doctor?" He jerked when her voice hummed into his office, sharp and professional and nothing like it had sounded before. He lifted his head and she took this as a cue to continue. "Do you want someone to go over the pharmacy logs?"

"Sure," he grumbled and then paused, thinking. She was turning to leave when he called out, "Why don't you do it, Chapel? Then you're relieved." She nodded and McCoy settled in his own personal victory.

The pharmacy was nicely nestled between the entrance to Sickbay and the CMO's office, surrounded by thin, fiberglass walls.

-

The next time he heard her voice it was in the recovery unit, her hair mussed and sweaty, cradling a ten-minute-old baby in her arms, finger extended so the child could grasp it firmly. He removed his gloves and leaned against the wall, watching her sway and smile while nurses roamed around, unaware of the effect she was having on this baby.

And him.

She had shocked him 20 minutes earlier, screaming at the yeoman to _"Push, damnit, PUSH!"_ amidst the sobbing of _"I can't do this, I can't do this" _and the other weak shit women told themselves during childbirth. McCoy had given up early on, fighting with the pregnant woman about her delivery, insisting that "Honey, when that thing is coming out of you, you won't give a damn what kind of drug is in you!"

But the girl was young and stupid and stubborn, a recipe bound to piss him off more than the average moron. Chapel had contentedly agreed with McCoy, using _words_ and _feelings_ to try and convince the girl that she was going to be in a lot of pain. Even Chapel, playing devil's advocate with her glowing hair and cute freckles, couldn't convince the idiot girl to get the drugs.

The baby had howled and McCoy watched as Chapel let out a bark of surprise, announcing amongst wailing and crying the sex of the child and handing the infant off to her second-in-command and rubbing the girl's leg, telling her what a good job she had done. McCoy had rolled his eyes and slipped away, trying to find a broken bone or deep gash to doctor to remove the estrogen from his skin.

He closed his eyes and listened to the nice tone, the fullness, the deepness of her voice, swallowing the tightness that had risen from his chest to his throat.

"He's the first." McCoy's eyes shot open as he realized she wasn't singing anymore, just standing there, eyes trained on him.

"W-What?" His voice sounded rough, unsettling and she only smiled.

"The first baby on the Enterprise."

McCoy huffed. "Then please tell me his mother didn't name him Jim or Kirk or something equally as idiotic -"

She laughed lightly and shook her head, settling the baby down in his bed, the child letting out a cry of protest but she soothed him lightly. "No, it's not any of those. Or Spock. Or even _Leonard_."

"Easy, girl. It's a family name." He stepped into the dim lighting of the makeshift nursery to be closer to her and she didn't move, untying her blood-splattered smock to toss it on an extra bed, running fingers through her cropped blonde hair and smoothing it down.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He cringed at how pathetic he must've sounded but a smile tugged her mouth.

"For what?"

"Well, your first delivery on the Enterprise." He paused. "And because I'm an incompetent asshole."

"Only if you don't call yourself those things." She strode toward him, stopping when her shoulder had just thumped his bicep. She looked up at him and quirked a golden brow. "Wear your green jacket. I like that one."

A quick pat to his chest and she was walking away, leaving the doctor slightly slack-jawed and confused. He shook his head and made his way over to the temporary crib, peering down on the infant. The baby only gazed up at him, almost like the kid was expecting something as beautiful and harmonious to come from anyone who stood above the crib. McCoy couldn't help himself; he ran a knuckle along the child's soft cheek and smiled.

The baby immediately began to wail and McCoy stomped away, scowling at the nurse who gave him a look of disappointment as she rushed to the crib.

-

"Ouch, goddamnit!" McCoy had just caught his ankle on a nasty looking purple root when he heard the faint sound of the shower floating in the trees and something musical above that. He could feel the burning sensation of swelling, making his leg tighten against his boot and he pulled the strap on his pack tighter, hobbling toward the sounds of life.

He first saw her head peeking out of the top of the portable showers, eyes closed and clearly unaware of the company she had just inherited in the form of a grouchy physician in need of a drink and a lot of nurturing. McCoy made a loud huffing noise to get her attention and it worked, her eyes opening and looking at him, first in surprise and then concern.

"What did you manage to do to yourself?" A grin threatened her serious tone and McCoy only threw off his pack, throwing his leg up on something stable and tugging the zipper on his boot down. He noticed something shiny lying next to her clothes piled up beside the steps to the shower and frowned.

"You know, when I gave you this, I expected you to wear it so some creature doesn't come and think he can take a bite." He picked up the tiny band of gold and she shut the shower off.

"Oh, I was unaware of the vast knowledge of Earth marriage law that animals possessed. Sorry, dear." She wrapped a towel around her chest and McCoy pursed his lips, biting his tongue and pulling off his boot gingerly. Peeling off his sweaty sock revealed a sizable ankle, already swollen and slightly purple.

"That looks awful." She wrinkled her nose. "What did you do?"

"Tripped on a damn root." He was in full-Bones mode, face already sunken to a country scowl. "This planet is a menace and if we don't get off, we're all going t-"

" - 'To hell in a hand basket', I know." She leaned over and tenderly patted his ankle. "I'm sure we could do something…there's _got_ to be a doctor around here somewhere."

"Woman, if you don't - "

"Relax, grumpy. I'm getting the medkit." She clenched her towel close to her body and searched among their belongings for the emergency kit, stooping down to retrieve it and then returning to McCoy. He watched her extract bandages and cold packs, tossing away the unused things and managing to balance what she needed in one hand. McCoy cleared his throat and she looked up.

"What?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I think I'd be less grouchy if you'd do this in the nude."

"Oh, would you?" Her tone was light and sarcastic, brow raised in wonder.

"Oh, yes, definitely."

She snapped off the bandage with a loud _THWACK!_ and said in her flattest tone, "Not gonna happen, Mister."

-

_Go to sleep you little baby…_

McCoy shifted on his makeshift pad on the hardwood floor, trying to find something comfortable other than his ribcage being bruised by the merciless floor. He heard the bed shift and a little sigh, Christine's singing getting deeper as the moving ceased.

_Go to sleep little baby_

_Everybody's gone in the cotton and the corn_

_Didn't leave nobody but the baby…_

McCoy felt his eyes grow heavy and he let out a small grunt, his hip aching in the position he was laying. Damnit, if he wasn't a gentleman though. Agreeing to let Christine and Joanna - _sixty-two inches of puberty and sassing-back_ - have the bed while he took the high road and remained stuck on the floor with that mangy mutt of Christine's and Joanna's grey kitten. The kitten had been tucked under his chin and provided a loud soundtrack of its own; so loud that McCoy picked the poor thing up and had placed him on the bed. The kitten promptly buried itself next to Christine's breasts and McCoy felt a flash of jealousy but then regained his composure.

The point of her singing had been to quiet Joanna and ease her homesickness. Jocelyn had jumped on the opportunity to take advantage of his shore leave and send Joanna to her father, citing a long-awaited honeymoon with her new husband as the reason for the drop. Joanna was upset - and understandably so - to have to spend summer break with her father and his new wife outside of New Orleans in the middle of nowhere. Christine had offered her family home and they had had a grand old time, picking apples from the orchard and making back-breaking rope swings near the river. There had only been a few casualties: Christine's old truck had smoked out the first jaunt into town and a mild incident involving the kitten and the gutters, where the kitten pulled out a victory with its newly sharpened claws.

"Len?"

He never heard her calling him, his breathing hard and shallow, signaling his descent into slumber. The dog made his way to the doctor's feet, curling his belly around each sole, sighing as he settled into his own dreams.

Christine smiled at the dreamy-eyed Joanna, the girl's long dark lashes fluttering under the moonlight. "I think your dad is the loser. Only 10 minutes in."

Joanna only smiled, mumbled "One more time", and dug deeper into the soft pillows. Christine obliged and the kitten purred softly into her chest, almost in rhythm with her heartbeat.

_Come lay your bones on the alabaster stones_

_And be my ever-lovin' baby._


End file.
